


The Rose and the Thorn: A Collection of Broppy Stories

by just_kys_fics



Category: Trolls (2016), Trolls World Tour (2020)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Humor, Romance, idk lol tags are hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_kys_fics/pseuds/just_kys_fics
Summary: A collection of stories based off of the pairing of Poppy and Branch. See first chapter for full summary and additional information.
Relationships: Branch & Queen Poppy (Trolls), Branch/Queen Poppy (Trolls)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 37





	1. Summary and Extra Info

Most (or possibly all) of the stories in this collection are based off of writing prompts. Why? Because prompts give more variation in topics and allow stories to have the opportunity to become more interesting. Alternatively, prompts give me significantly better ideas than my own brain can supply. I will post the prompt used at the top of every chapter, as well as where it came from. Because each prompt is different, each story will most likely have a different rating. It’s safe to assume most of them will have some cuddling and kissing, but some might not get to that extent, while others may go a tad further. I will leave this story at a Teen rating overall, but please note not all of it will fit under that. I will not post anything too explicit. 

I chose the title The Rose and the Thorn for this collection because I believe it is a good representation of how I picture the pairing of Poppy and Branch. Poppy is much like a rose: bright, beautiful, delicate, adored, and very popular. Branch relates to a thorn: prickly, rough, feared, protective, and criticized. However, the rose can’t live without the thorn, and the thorn can’t live without the rose. Without the thorn, the rose is left vulnerable and incomplete. Without the rose, the thorn cannot live to serve its purpose.

My hope is for each story to be a oneshot, but there is a possibility that some may be more than one chapter. If this does occur, I will mark the chapter accordingly in both the chapter title and chapter summary. 

As for updates, there will not be a regular schedule that I follow. I will write stories as the inspiration and motivation arises and post each new chapter soon after being written. There could be days, weeks, or possibly even months between stories, but I do hope some of you stick around to read my work.

Please enjoy! :)


	2. Thoughts

**Title:** Thoughts  
**Prompt:** Poppy: I wish I knew what other people really thought of me, don’t you?  
Branch: I guess so.  
Branch: (Internally) I love you, I love you, I’m in love with you so much it’s killing me.  
_(prompt credit to: prompts . neocities . org – minus the spaces)_  
**Note:** This story takes place a year before the first movie, so Branch is gray.

Branch sat at his dining room table, staring at the wall with the curtain hiding Poppy’s cards and invitations. He had been sitting there for 30 minutes, debating on whether or not to open the curtain. He had been looking through the contents of the shelf the day before, but that already felt like a lifetime ago. His days seemed to go by so slowly when all he ever did was eat a meal or two, scavenge in the forest for a while, and spend hours on end thinking about a certain pink troll. 

He hated that he couldn’t get the princess out of his head. He knew what he felt for her wasn’t something he could just get rid of, but he wished he could. He didn’t deserve someone like Poppy, nor did Poppy want to be with someone like him. It was impossible. No one loved him. He still didn’t know why Poppy bothered talking to him. It wasn’t like she actually cared. 

_But she does, she’s Poppy,_ another part of him whispered. _Maybe she could learn to love you. Maybe she already does._

Ah. There it was. The part of him that didn’t want to accept the truth. The side that kept whatever tiny shred of hope it could muster up. Branch hated that side. It was so ignorant, always looking for the positives. Just like Poppy.

Branch growled to himself and stood up, turning away from the curtain. He took a few steps, then stopped. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose before sliding his hand down his face. He turned around and walked back the way he came, past the table, and to the curtain. 

As he slid it open, he tried not to think about how pathetic he really was.

**0-0-0**

A banging from above startled Branch from his reading. He had been looking at a valentine from Poppy that was two years old. It was a small, pink cardstock heart with his name written in blue in the middle. There were more hearts drawn all over it, as well as way too much glitter. He looked at it fondly before shoving it back behind the curtain with all the other cards he had pulled out. 

More noises erupted from the entrance to his bunker, and he instantly knew it was Poppy. She was the only one that knocked so loudly, let alone the only troll who ever knocked at all. As he stepped onto the elevator and made his way to the unwelcome mat, he put a deep scowl on his face, wishing he didn’t have to wear it. Poppy still smiled at him when he frowned at her, and she didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be treated so kindly.

He popped open the mat and arose out of the bunker to greet her – something he rarely did. Who was he kidding? He was in an okay mood, and he felt like acting a little decent. He wondered if Poppy would notice. 

As his eyes fixed on the princess, though, Branch immediately regretted even opening the door. There she stood, pink and glittery, in her signature blue dress, with the sunlight outlining her form perfectly. She was too perfect. And the growing grin on her face didn’t help either. 

“Branch!” Poppy exclaimed excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “You actually answered!”

Branch sighed inwardly. So she had noticed. 

“Oh my goodness,” Poppy continued, and Branch maintained his glare. “You haven’t properly greeted me in forever! I could just…”

She trailed off and Branch raised an eyebrow, watching as the thrilled look on her face twisted into something more… mischievous. Before he could figure it out, Poppy’s arms were wrapped around him, enveloping his own crossed arms and all. His eyes widened and he tried to step back, but she kept a firm grip on him. The fact that his hands were completely trapped under her made him extremely anxious, and he had to remind himself to keep breathing. He hoped Poppy couldn’t hear his accelerating heartbeat. The hug was soft and warm, and he would never admit it, but he loved it. As much as he wanted to try and shove her away, he let himself enjoy this very unusual moment of physical contact. 

But then she just stayed there and wouldn’t let go. It had been too long. Friends – if they even could call themselves that – didn’t hug this long. This wasn’t right. Branch shifted and grabbed the insides of Poppy’s arms, effectively pushing her away from him. His hands lingered longer than he wanted them to, and he internally cursed. He just wanted to go hide away in the bunker. He was letting her do too much. He was showing too much. Branch never let Poppy hug him. What just happened?

Surprisingly, Poppy didn’t look shocked or hurt at all. She had a little content smirk on her face, and she didn’t say a word. 

“What?” Branch grumbled, avoiding her gaze. He prayed his face wasn’t reflecting how flustered he was.

“Oh, nothing,” Poppy said, her expression never faltering. “Am I allowed to join you in the bunker for a little bit today?”

Branch almost immediately blurted a yes in response but stopped himself. He had already expressed too much. He couldn’t let her think he was that desperate for her attention. And he wasn’t desperate at all. Nope. He knew there was no way him and Poppy could be a thing. The only thing they could be was friends, and even that was a stretch. 

“Fine,” he replied, not as unfriendly as he wanted it to sound. His frown deepened. What was up with him today? Maybe he needed to stop looking at all those cards so much. They were messing with his ability to keep Poppy out of his emotions. 

Poppy practically squealed in response and jumped onto the platform, waiting for him to pull the lever. He hesitated, distracted by her proximity and her scent. She smelled like vanilla and wildflowers, and he wished he could bury his nose in her hair just to inhale the fragrance. 

Poppy moved slightly, and Branch blinked out of his stupor. Wow, he really needed to get a hold of himself.

Branch pulled the lever, pretending to find an interest in the walls as they went down to the main floor of the bunker. Was that a hole there? Hmm. He’d have to fix that soon. He didn’t need or want to deal with that little cavity becoming any bigger. Oh, and it sounded like the elevator was a little squeaky. He’d have to oil it up once Poppy left. 

Oh right. Poppy.

Why was the lift taking so long? Did it always move this slowly?

Finally, after what felt like eons to Branch, the platform came to a stop. Poppy bounded off to the dining table, where he had been sitting earlier. He began to worry that Poppy would find a stray piece of glitter or a ripped piece of colorful felt. If she found anything scrapbook related, he would never hear the end of it. And the last thing he wanted was for her to find out it was from her own crafts that she had given to him.

Branch began making his way to the table, deciding to try and distract her from potentially discovering anything. As he approached, she turned to him, a very thoughtful look on her face. Uh oh.

“Branch,” she said, and he stopped a couple steps away from the table. “Do you ever wonder what other people really think of you? I know I do. What if Guy Diamond hates me and just doesn’t want me to know? What if Satin thinks I’m annoying, and Chenille thinks my hairstyles are bad? Oh! What if one of my best friends has a _crush_ on me? That would be interesting. I wonder if any of that is true. Have you thought about that?”

“I suppose I have,” Branch said, trying to keep himself from saying any thought racing through his mind. He wished she knew how much he loved her. He wished he could tell her. He wished she could just know. If she knew how much he loved her, she probably would never talk to him again. She’d think he was a creep. She didn’t want his love in that way. She just wanted him to be happy. What she didn’t understand was that she made him the happiest he was ever going to get. He loved her so much it hurt. He knew that there was no denying it. Branch didn’t want to be in love with her. It was pointless. But he still was. His heart wouldn’t give her up, and he hated it. He hated how his pulse would quicken just by thinking about her. He hated how he could only write poetry about her. He hated how she occupied his every thought, no matter what he was doing. He was so in love with her, and it was killing him.

Poppy’s face appeared in front of him, and he jumped away. Why was she so close?

“Branch, are you okay?” She looked concerned. How long had he spaced out?

“I’m fine, Poppy,” he mumbled.

“Was it something I said?”

“What?”

“You stopped listening to me. You were staring off into space. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Branch could feel himself blush, and he busied himself with brushing the invisible dust off the table. 

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty-”

“It was nothing, Poppy. I’m just tired, okay? Why don’t you go home or to your next party or something?”

When she didn’t respond, Branch looked up. He couldn’t read her expression for once. Her mouth was in a thin line, and her eyes were focused on something by his feet. She was completely blank. Was she feeling alright?

“Poppy?” he called to her, and she glanced up. 

“Branchhh,” she said suddenly, her tone gentle as she drew out his name. “Will you come to DJ’s party with me later?”

Branch glowered in response. What, did she think that just because he was treating her a little nicer than usual meant he would finally do something with her and her friends? Absolutely not. The parties she attended were loud and way too noticeable. He knew a bergen would find them at some point, and he didn’t want to be at the party that finally proved him right. As much as he loved her, he would never go to any of her festivities. 

“Oh, come on!” Poppy groaned in a volume that was a little louder than necessary. “I thought something was different today! You greeted me when I knocked, you let me hug you, you let me come into your bunker, you answered my weird question, you haven’t yelled at me yet… It’s not my fault you have a different attitude every day! You’re so confusing!”

Branch just stared at her. She was a lot more observant that he thought she was. And now she was catching onto him. He had to do something. He didn’t want to be rude to her today, but if it meant keeping her away from his mind and anything she could get him to accidentally say, he would do it. 

“This is why I’m never nice to you!” Branch retorted, his voice sharp. “You read into it too much! I do one thing that’s not shouting at you, and you think I’m a whole different troll! I’m sorry, Poppy, but I’m not going to change. I’m always going to be the same insolent, crazy troll that nobody likes. I’m never going to go to any of your parties because I don’t want to _die_. Now please leave.”

“Stop lying to yourself! You _know_ I care about you! And we haven’t seen a bergen in 19 _years_! Who knows, maybe you’d actually _like_ singing and dancing with everyone!” Poppy was fuming, and Branch didn’t know if he should continue to argue with her or just ignore her until she left. He began to open his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. Her voice was small and quiet, and he had to strain to hear her.

“I just want you to be happy, Branch. I’m just trying to help.”

Before he could say anything, she ran to the elevator and disappeared up above, never once looking back down at him, and he swore he saw her wipe her eyes on her arm. Well. That was not what he expected to happen. He thought he was going to make some sarcastic remark and she would storm off, not that she would whisper something so heartfelt it made her cry. Branch felt horrible. He had never seen her cry. And it was just because she wanted to help him find happiness. Why was he such a monster?

Branch exhaled, his breath shaky. He slowly sunk to the floor, bringing his knees to his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs. What had he done? If he loved her so much, why did he always push her away? It didn’t make sense. Who makes someone they love cry? He was awful. No wonder no one liked him. He was so unlikeable. It was unfair to Poppy. She cared enough to be the one troll that ever talked to him, and he blew her off every time. Seriously, what did he want?

He wanted Poppy, he knew that much. Without her presence, the bunker felt so cold and empty. She gave his home life, and a welcoming feeling that he could never possess. He also wanted her to know how he felt, but he didn’t want to tell her. Branch shook his head and scoffed. That was convenient. He wanted to be a different troll, to be someone worthy of her love. But that was impossible. He had told her himself that he could never change and be someone he wasn’t. That didn’t mean he couldn’t want to be someone better.

Branch sat like that in the middle of the floor for awhile before finally deciding to get back up. He wasn’t hungry anymore and it was only two hours past noon, but he just wanted to go lay down. He didn’t want to go stock up on supplies today. He didn’t want to make himself food that he wasn’t going to eat. He didn’t want to think about how Poppy was probably in her pod, crying and missing the party she had invited him to – and that was his fault. 

He trudged into his bedroom and sprawled across his bed, knowing sleep was not going to come. He knew he would lie there for the rest of the day and the entire night, thinking about nothing but the girl he loved more than anything.


	3. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaack with a new update to this!

**Title:** Together  
**Prompt:** Branch: I don’t want to be alone right now  
_(prompt credit to: prompts . neocities . org – minus the spaces)_  
**Note:** On the Trolls timeline, this takes place not directly after, but soon after World Tour.

A pink queen leaped out of her bed and spun around her pod, a huge grin already painted across her face. It was a new morning, a new day, a new series of adventures! She quickly slipped out of her pajamas, took her glitter shower, and bounded out the door. She wore a dark green dress that faded into white and glittery snowflakes at the hem. Her hair was in its usual topknot, and her crown was replaced with a snowflake headband. The colder months were upon them, after all. 

She was first greeted by Smidge, who was bouncing around excitedly. She held a black envelope in her hands. 

“Poppy!” the teaspoon troll exclaimed in her baritone voice. “Barb sent you a letter!”

Poppy squealed and took the letter from Smidge. She prayed it was something good before opening it up, her smile growing impossibly wider as she read it.

“She accepted my invite to the holiday girls’ night! This is gonna be so fun!” The two girls jumped up and down for approximately three minutes before giving each other a hug and going their separate ways. 

Before Poppy could take more than three steps, Satin and Chenille were in front of her. 

“Poppy!” Satin called. 

“You’re finally wearing the dress!” Chenille reached her hand out to brush it across the shoulder of the green fabric. 

“It looks amazing on you,” Satin continued.

“Girls!” Poppy said happily. “I love it so much! It’s so festive. You guys did amazing!”

“Thank you, Poppy!” the twins replied in unison. 

After talking about the hottest fashion trends for a while, Poppy was alone again. She couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t seen Branch. He usually would’ve found her by now. After they confessed their feelings for each other just a few months before, they had spent the majority of their days together. They were still best friends, only with some kissing here and there. She had been extra busy recently – what with all the invites she had to make for her girls’ night and getting Pop Village ready for the holidays. The last time she had really spent time with him was two weeks ago. She had showed up at the bunker, and he allowed her in. She made him coffee and herself hot chocolate, and they spent the evening cuddling on his couch and telling each other about their days. 

Poppy hummed thoughtfully at the memory. Where was he today? Even though she had been busy, she still saw him at least once a day. She pressed a finger to her chin as she pondered. Nothing came to mind. Hmm. Was he planning something? Unlikely. Was he out with other friends? Also unlikely. Branch still didn’t quite feel comfortable enough to hang out with trolls from the other tribes without her yet, and the Snack Pack was in the village with her. Was he sleeping in? Poppy shook her head. Branch never slept in. 

Well, if he wasn’t going to come to her, she would go to him.

**0-0-0**

About 20 minutes and a few more friendly conversations with her friends later, Poppy arrived at the entrance to the bunker. She let herself in, tapping her foot anxiously as the elevator made its way down. When she reached the bottom, she instantly felt uneasy. The main floor of the bunker was completely dark, dimly lit by a couple glowbugs in the elevator shaft. From where she stood, she could see the kitchen, which had dirty dishes in the sink and looked like it hadn’t been used all morning. That was strange. Branch didn’t like leaving dishes in his sink.

“All the food dries onto them and makes it harder to clean,” he’d told her once. She had wanted to go on a walk with him, but he demanded on washing the plates and bowls in the sink first. She tried convincing him to do it later, and that she’d even help him. Despite her attempts, he wouldn’t agree.

So why were there dishes with day-old food on them? And why did it look like he hadn’t even stepped foot on the main floor today? Poppy furrowed her brow and cautiously began to walk around the corner to his bedroom, slowly opening the door. He wasn’t there, but his sheets and blankets were thrown haphazardly across the bed, showing no signs of having been touched in several hours. Branch not making his bed? Odd. 

She heard a shuffle echo through the bunker, and a shiver ran down her spine. Something didn’t seem right. Branch never left his bed unkempt. Branch never had dirty dishes. Branch never forgot to turn on the lights. It wasn’t adding up. Poppy felt herself starting to worry. Where was Branch?

The queen walked back out of his bedroom, trying to figure out where he could be. She didn’t think he was outside his home. He had to be here somewhere. She needed to find him.

Poppy walked around his kitchen, looking for any evidence that would tell her his whereabouts. Nothing. She walked back to the elevator and looked up the shaft. Nope. She didn’t know the bunker well enough to navigate it yet, so she didn’t want to attempt walking down hallways. But there was no sign of Branch, and that was her last option…

_Bang!_

Poppy almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of something hitting the floor down a corridor to her right. She didn’t allow herself to doubt. She didn’t feel her fear. She didn’t think.

Poppy ran. 

Pink feet sprinted to the hall the noise had come from. She bolted into the increasing darkness. She held her arms out, hoping she wouldn’t run into anything. She ran on her toes, trying to stay quiet so she could listen for any more indicators of where he was. The sick feeling in her stomach only grew. Branch wasn’t okay. She could feel it. 

_Crash!_

It was louder now. Just in front of her on the left. This time, it sounded like something had been thrown at a wall. She moved faster. Each doorway she passed was dark. So much darkness. No light. She couldn’t feel her feet. She didn’t know where she was. She couldn’t find him. But she couldn’t give up. She could hear quiet sobbing. _No._

She passed something that looked like a lighthouse in the blackest of waves. She skidded to a stop, her breathing heavy as she retraced her steps. There was a light – small but sure – flickering off the dirt walls of a compact room. As she reached the threshold, she had to cover her mouth to stifle a gasp. 

_Branch._

There he was, in a small storage room. He was curled in a ball, his back to her. His ears drooped, and his normal light blue skin was almost completely dull and gray. A candle sat near him. Around him were so many boxes, most of them neatly resting on shelves lining the walls. One box was sideways and open on the floor, its contents lying around the room. Poppy squinted, trying to make out the objects. 

As her eyes focused, tears began welling up. Pictures of trolls, old scrapbook pages, the drawings of a trolling… All kinds of memories were scattered on the floor of the room. Branch was bent over something, and she could see his shoulders trembling. She could feel her arms instinctively reaching toward him, but her feet wouldn’t move. 

Poppy watched as Branch raised a shaky hand, grabbed a smaller box in front of him, and dumped the insides out before tossing the container over his shoulder, not caring where it went. It hit another box still sitting on a shelf, then bounced to the floor with a loud _thud._ The impacted carboard cube shifted, and the shelf creaked. And then, silence.

The pink girl didn’t dare breathe, afraid she’d startle him. Branch leaned ever so slightly farther forward, reaching for something she couldn’t see. He grabbed it, and his whole body tensed. He was completely still as he studied the object in his hands, and Poppy so badly wanted to know what it was. His shoulders rose, and she listened as he inhaled sharply. And then, suddenly, he let out a long, strangled wail, and her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Through her own tears, she saw him clutch the item to his heart, hugging himself impossibly tighter. 

Poppy couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t watch him struggle like this all by himself. She stepped into the room, not paying attention to where she stepped. Her foot landed on a crumpled piece of paper, causing a sound loud enough to make Branch whip his head around to stare at her. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot, and his face was drenched in his own tears. She didn’t step any closer, too afraid he didn’t want her there. 

“Poppy,” was all he said, and it was barely above a whisper. His voice was raspy and low. 

“Branch, I…” She couldn’t find any words. She wiped at her eyes, sniffling. She should leave. This was a private moment. How rude of her to intrude! Why had she not thought about her actions? This was Branch! He needed his alone time!

Branch didn’t respond, he only stared at her, a sad and lost look in his blue eyes. 

“I- I’m so sorry, Branch,” Poppy said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to barge in I just couldn’t… find you. I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t my business.” She began walking backwards, towards the doorway. “I want to hug you so bad, but I don’t think you want that right now. You’re sad a- and crying and I’m crying, and I don’t know why you would want me here crying over something that I don’t even know about. You probably want to be by yourself right now. I’m sorry, I promise I’m sorry. I’ll come back tomorrow, okay? I’ll give you a big hug tomorrow.”

Poppy couldn’t see him through the salty liquid pooling in her eyes. She needed to get out of there before she ruined everything. What was she doing? Why was she still here? Branch wasn’t like the other trolls. He needed time to himself to process things. That’s how he had always been. Why was she such an idiot?

“Poppy.” She heard, but she didn’t listen. She needed to leave. She choked out a sob. She wanted so badly to stay with him. But she wasn’t wanted there. He wanted to be _alone._

“Poppy.” She was called again, this time louder. No, that was her imagination. Branch was still crying. He was sitting there, not caring that she was leaving. She balled her fists in the silky green fabric of her dress. Why wouldn’t her body do what she wanted it to? Why was she still standing in this stupid doorway?

“Poppy!” 

The queen stopped; all thoughts ceased. She rubbed at her eyes. Branch was still there. He was still looking at her. He was still crying. His whole body was still shaking.  
“Poppy,” he said again, softer, his voice still very noticeably hoarse. 

“Branch?” Poppy didn’t know why he was talking to her. She was supposed to be giving him space. She was supposed to be respecting his privacy. _She was supposed to be leaving him alone._

He took a deep breath, letting his eyes close. The tears still freely fell, but she could see that he was trying to collect himself for her sake. No, that wasn’t supposed to be how it worked. He was the one mourning. He was allowed to cry. She shouldn’t be. There was nothing wrong with her. Why was she even crying?

“I…” Branch started, then stopped. She focused on him again. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs hurt. The room smelled like sweat and dust. Branch opened his mouth to try again, and the world froze in that moment, the anticipation slowed reality to nothingness. 

“Poppy, I don’t want to be alone right now.”

At those words, her brain shut down. She rushed forward, a sob escaping her mouth as she dove to envelop him in a hug. Her arms flew around his neck and she held onto him for dear life, hoping he could feel how much she cared. Her nose buried in his shoulder, and her tears wet his leaf vest. She felt his arms circle around her, cradling her. His hand brushed through her hair, and she felt his body quiver as he whimpered and cried some more. 

“It’s the anniversary of my dad’s death,” Branch murmured between sobs. He reached behind himself and grabbed something, then showed it to her. It was a hand drawn picture of two identical trolls – one much smaller than the other. The top of the paper read, ‘To: Dad’ in messy green crayon lettering. In the bottom corner, there was a ‘Love: Branch’.

“Branch,” Poppy gasped. She felt so bad for not knowing. “I’m so, so sorry! I should’ve known! I can’t-”

He cut her off with another hug, and this time he seemed more desperate. She squeezed her eyes shut and poured all her love into the embrace.

“Don’t talk,” he mumbled, muffled by the skin in the crook of her neck. “I don’t want to talk. I just want to feel. I want to feel with you.”

Poppy tightened her arms around him and softly hummed a soothing tune. She had stopped crying, but Branch seemed to get worse. His howls grew louder, and his sobbing developed into bawling. She did her best to hold her own sadness back, and instead rocked him back and forth. Her fingers caressed him anywhere she could reach – his back, his hair, his shoulders, his ears. 

Some time later, he sniveled, gradually bringing himself to only emanate soft whines. She held him tight and close to her heart, hoping that he could hear the steady beat. Hoping he would continue to calm. Hoping the pain he was feeling would subside. 

Eventually, his breathing evened out, and his body no longer quaked. The only movement was the soft rise and fall of his shoulders. Poppy sighed. How long had he cried before she got there? Did he spend this day each year in this state? How long had he gone with no one there to comfort him? The thoughts made Poppy’s heart constrict. She was so glad he had allowed her to help him. She didn’t want to think about what he could be doing right now if she hadn’t decided to find him. 

She gently pulled herself away from him enough to see his face. Her brows knit together and her mouth set in a firm line. He was asleep, but he didn’t look peaceful at all. His cheeks were tearstained, and she softly wiped a few remaining drops resting around his eyes. Worry lines had developed across his forehead and his crow’s feet were more pronounced – it reminded her of when he was gray. She wished she could relieve all his stress in that moment. He deserved to relax and rest.

While she didn’t want to wake him, she knew they couldn’t spend forever sitting on the floor of that tiny storage room. She needed to move him to his bed.

“Branch,” she called, quiet. 

He grumbled, his mouth turned down into a frown, and she almost decided to just let him sleep. But she couldn’t. He’d sleep much better on a mattress. 

“Branch…” she said again, a little sterner and louder this time. 

“Hunnng, Poppy,” he groggily replied. He began to stir, removing his arms from the death grip he had on her and stretching them out to the sides. He let out a yawn and scratched his head, then peeked at her. His eyes were still red and puffy, and she was afraid he’d start crying again when they widened as he noticed the mess surrounding them. As she prepared herself for another outburst, Branch simply let out a stiff breath before cupping her face in his hands. 

Magenta eyes locked on aquamarine, a message of love and understanding passing through the electric current connecting their souls. Poppy leaned into his touch and covered her hands with his. To say the least, he looked absolutely horrible. It made sense why the rooms she had checked earlier were completely deserted. He probably hadn’t touched his bed or attempted to taste any food since last night. He had been in this room going through old boxes for _hours._

Branch gave her a small, sad smile. Poppy returned it. She placed her hand on his cheek and brushed away the fresh tears with her thumb. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. She turned her head to kiss his palm, then began to untangle herself from him. Once standing, she took his hands and pulled him up to join her. He laced his fingers with hers, taking another deep breath before leaning down to blow out the candle. He looked back at her, indicating that she could lead the way. 

Poppy took slow, steady steps. They were in no hurry. Neither of them talked. There was nothing to be said. They could feel each other’s emotions, could sense when the other needed a reassuring glance or a quick squeeze of the palm. 

When they were in Branch’s bedroom, Poppy led him to the bedside and reluctantly released his hand so she could tidy and fix the sheets. She pulled them down and up and waited for Branch to crawl under before snuggling in on the other side. 

She turned to him, hooked her knee on his hip, and draped her arm on his neck, taking to delicately stroking his ears again. He rested his free arm on her midsection and nuzzled closer, his breath fanning across her face. He lightly kissed her hairline, giving her his unspoken thanks for being there for him. 

Poppy and Branch laid there, their gazes whispering “I love you”s meant only for each other to understand. Poppy sighed contentedly. As they drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but think about how Branch never had to be alone again. She would always be there for him, just as he was always there for her. They would face life hand in hand. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for that emotional roller coaster! I don't usually write angst, so I hope I did well! This one really punched a few holes in my heart.


End file.
